Your Fault
by Ectonti
Summary: <html><head></head>The brother who never gets in trouble, and the one who can't keep out of it. The father who's never home, and the one who doesn't notice. Who has the most hurt locked up inside? Who's angry enough to wreck himself and his family for a little recognition?</html>


**Hey, y'all, Ectonti here! So, this is my first attempt at a multi chapter fan fiction, and I really have no idea what direction I'm going with this. I suppose we'll find out as we go along, ya? Anyway, enjoy, and please tell me what you think, anything at all is appreciated! Spot a grammar error? Point it out! Have an idea for the plot? Let me know!**

**Oh, also! I don't own Hetalia and all that Jazz**

**Also, also, if you didn't guess from the rating, this is a mature story that may possibly contain smut in latter chapters, if I can work up the courage that is… **

Alfred Jones was not a model student. He didn't get the best grades, he got into fights, he drank, and he went to clubs and partied till the wee hours before staggering back home. He was the problem child, and proud of it.

His twin, on the other hand, was the perfect son. Good grades, never got in a fight, never even raised his voice. It never once occurred to Alfred that his brother was really the more troubled of the two.

At least, not until he walked into the strip club and spotted his brother, his naïve, innocent brother, straddling some business man, wearing an outfit that would make a hooker blush.

"Mathew?"

His brother looked up, and smiled. It was a lazy sort of smile, full of amusement and perhaps a hint of scorn. It lasted only a second before he turned away, back to his client.

Alfred was stunned. Beyond stunned, horrified. He had always protected his brother, at least in his own mind. He was the hero, and the hero's brother did not work at a strip club! He was going to go over there, grab his brother, and get him out of here!

He only made it half way across the room before Mathew pulled himself away from the business man and sashayed (that was really the only word for it) towards his brother. He didn't stop, only paused in passing to whisper 'Don't bother me', before continuing on to the bar.

Alfred was torn. He desperately, desperately wanted to get his brother out, but he must have a reason for what he said, right? Maybe, maybe whoever was making him do this was watching. Yes, that must be it. He didn't want to endanger his brother, so he would wait until he left, and then sweep him away somewhere safe!

"Don't worry, Mattie, I'll get you out of here." He murmured to himself, spinning on his heal and making his way out of the club. He was the hero, and he wasn't going to let this stand.

It took a lot of composure for Mathew to keep a straight face when he saw his brother enter the club, but somehow he managed to keep the snarl of hate locked away. On one hand his gut clenched in apprehension, his double life was well and truly exposed now, but on the other he felt excitement constrict his chest. He _wanted_ them to know, to realize how their neglect had driven him into the darker side of life. They would have to pay attention to him now.

When they made eye contact, he let a slow grin spread across his face and a small giggle escaped him at the sight of Alfred's horrified look. He was less pleased when he saw the self righteous glint in his eyes take over and he began to march toward him.

"I'll be just a minute." He cooed to the (rather boring) client, slipping off his lap and moving to meet his brother. "Don't bother me" he hissed, not even taking the time to stop.

He enjoyed his work, and he'd be damned if he'd let his bastard of a brother ruin the one thing in his life that was his and his alone.

Sidling up to the bar, he motioned to Gilbert and held up two fingers, and the grinning man slid him two beers.

"Who's the blondie, Birdie?" He asked, tilting his head in the direction of the man now retreating from the club. "He was making one hell of a face at you." Mathew grabbed the beer and shrugged.

"No clue." He lied, moving to return to his client. The German man reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him back.

"So, Birdie, I can expect you tonight, right?" He wiggled his eyebrows in a way that was supposed to be seductive, but simply looked ridicules.

"Sorry Gil, not tonight." He gave an apologetic smile. He really was sorry to skip out on his semi-boyfriend, but he wasn't going to miss the chance to torment his brother. He knew Alfred would be waiting for him to get off his shift. "Gotta go, don't want the clientele getting antsy." Gilbert grumbled something that sounded like "Next time." and Mathew went and slid back into his clients lap. He decided that, on the whole, tonight wasn't shaping up too badly. After all, it was the night he was finally going to get some revenge.

**So, first chapter, kinda short, but hopefully they'll get longer as they go along. Anyway, please, please, on my **_**knees**_**, review! I want to know what you think, please don't hesitate! DO IT, DO IT!**

**Anyway, Ectonti out!**


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